Disconnect
by RitzyGreen
Summary: Colin's a very clever guy, but there are some things that even he cannot understand. A one-shot revolving around how Colin just doesn't get that he's outdated.


**A/N:** This was an old unfinished fic I found in my files that I decided to try and finish. I wanted to get this out by June 19th, but being the lazy and out of practice writer that I am, I ended up about 35 minutes later than that goal, so whoops. More author notes at the end.

 **Warnings:** Contains existentialism, vague mentions of sexual harassment (I'm not sure if that's the best term for it, and it's very brief, but I felt like I should put a warning anyway)

* * *

Colin's lesson ended with a heavy drone and a loud pop that left his hard drive ringing.

He'd known it was coming, that his song would be over when the music got too chaotic just like all the others, but it was still a big jolt to his system nonetheless.

With the pop came a blinding flash, and the pixelated avatars in his digital world glitched even more than they'd been only moments before. Someone-not Roy, that much he could tell-had the gall to pull the plug on Colin's lesson, forcing him to restart.

Before he'd realized exactly what was happening, he was back in the game room with the yellow boy and duck, his body limbless once more.

The room was dark now, the only source of illumination being his own flickering screen. The two students were staring at him, empty-eyed and slack-jawed. They probably had so much fun and learned so much that it short-circuited their tiny little brains, an understandable reaction to something as great as him.

Instead of staring back or talking to the duo, Colin closed his eyes and tapped the table impatiently with an arrowed cursor. He needed to wait for his system to finish reloading before he could fully process the situation, similar to how those flesh bags needed a few minutes to really wake up whenever they got out of sleep mode.

Roy wasn't the one who ended their digital dance. He could tell whenever the odd man was near, and although he was in the room at the end he didn't touch the cord.

Suddenly it clicked.

The tall student, the rude one with no sense of personal space, was still missing. He must've done it, and the more Colin focused the more certain he became.

As Colin dug through his memory files he saw what happened. Instead of cooperating with the lesson the red boy walked off set, right into that little white room where he saw something he wasn't supposed to, and Roy finally decided enough was enough.

When the red student was kicked out of the party he left a mess behind.

It wasn't a normal mess, the sort of one you'd expect to see whenever someone's head exploded where blood and brains and teeth would be left all over the place. Instead, there was just glitter dusted everywhere, which was awfully rude because glitter was absolutely impossible to remove.

But it was funny that was all the red student left. It proved he didn't have a brain and that he wasn't the least bit worthy of being around Roy's son.

Unlike him.

Colin's physical brain was a beautiful masterpiece of mashed meat and string and sequins. It was nothing compared to his real, digital mind of course, but it was useful since it showed the lesser beings that they could relate to him, that he was indeed approachable.

When he opened his eyes the two remaining students were still there. Now that his memory finished loading he could remember the data he collected on them during the lesson, neat little files that differentiated them more than Roy's Son and Not Roy's Son. He waved a cursor in front of their faces, and when they didn't react he tried to click on them.

The duck-named I live in my house, good sense of style-shrieked and smacked a palm over his eye, right where Colin clicked. The yellow boy-lives in spaghetti, hey look a-didn't react as much as his friend, instead just grabbing his nose in confusion after Colin poked it a few times.

The two still acted groggy, but they finally stumbled out of the room in a daze, mumbling nonsense under their breaths.

After they left, Colin closed his eyes and prepared to enter sleep mode. He'd be stuck at the house now, not allowed to leave until Roy's son had learned his lesson, just like the sketchbook and clock before him.

"That was rude," a low, goofy sounding voice grumbled from the side of the room.

Colin turned to see a round thing staring at him with a small, forced smile. Oh. It was that stupid teacher he was sent in to replace, Gilbert the Globe. He sang about geography but was too nice and slow for the lessons to be any good.

"You didn't have to cut me off like that," Gilbert mumbled. "I could've answered it."

"Could you really have, though? You're just a globe, after all! A round map who can tell people where things are, but nothing else. Not only can I tell them where something is, but I can say how…" Colin blinked. What had the trio asked again?

"Big. They wanted to know what the biggest thing in the world is," Gilbert said sadly.

"Big things are! How deep and tall and wide and small! AND," Colin continued with a smirk, "I can tell them fun facts about it too, like the fashion, where to buy souvenirs, and provide charts about its annual revenue!"

The globe's expression didn't change. "That's certainly impressive, but it was my turn to teach them."

Colin let out a small laugh. Hadn't he realized yet? "Roy sent me."

Gilbert wasn't smiling anymore. "What?"

"You were taking too long."

"I just got a little nervous!"

Colin ignored the outburst and continued with his explanation. "You're too nice in lessons, and Roy's made it very clear his son needs proper discipline. And you aren't very clever, either! A stupid person shouldn't be teaching at all, let alone about something as important as reality! Besides, I'm the best teacher, of course he'd want me to sing about the world to them."

Roy hadn't actually told him any of this, but those seemed like the most logical reasons from what Colin had observed. Except that last one, he'd added it in to flourish his answer a bit more, but that was okay since it was true anyway.

"You weren't even singing about the world," Gilbert objected, his voice sounding a little odd.

"The digital world," Colin said with a grin. "It's much more important than yours."

"But mine's real!" His voice started to crack and his face scrunched up in a rather funny way.

"That's great, but I was still chosen over you."

Gilbert opened his mouth, then closed it again. They stared at each other in silence for precisely twenty-three seconds before the globe suddenly spun around to face the wall. The still air was broken by the sound of muffled cries, and he could see Gilbert's frame trembling ever so slightly.

Colin tilted his head in confusion. There'd been no malice in his words, just simple truths. Gilbert really hadn't met Roy's standards, and Colin was definitely more clever than him.

Oh well, if the other teacher was going to have a fit over something so silly, it was on him. And with that thought, Colin tried to go to sleep, a simple task made difficult thanks to his new roommate.

The rest of the night was spent with Gilbert shedding silent, frustrated tears and Colin trying his best to ignore him. By the time a small, bright screen flipped open and a soft voice began to soothe the upset globe, Colin had already powered off.

* * *

A few days passed, and Colin was now familiar with the layout of the house and most of its inhabitants. Although he found the place much nicer than that strange little void where he used to stay, the computer still had a few complaints.

The students were avoiding him. Every time he saw the duo they'd turn the other way, and they refused to go into the game room entirely now. It was a strange reaction, especially when Colin was sure they enjoyed his lesson. Honestly, how couldn't they? His digital world was clearly the best surprise any of the teachers had to offer.

Stranger still, neither one seemed awake yet.

It wasn't like they were stuck in sleep mode, tucked away in their beds where the Lamp could reach them to sing about dreams. But they were acting odd, slouched over, moving slowly, and stumbling over simple words like their tongues were dead weight instead of tools to help them talk. Maybe he really did fry their minds with his lesson...

They probably just needed to do the organic equivalent of a recharge, and if that didn't work Colin was certain they'd be fully operational by the time the next teacher arrived. Roy would make sure of it. He couldn't punish his son if the silly boy wasn't paying attention, after all!

But since those meat bags were out of commission, Colin didn't know what to do.

Sure, he could've gone into his digital world again, but it seemed so much less fun if there was no one to show off to. If he tried to get the other teachers to join him, they always had an excuse ready for why they couldn't go, or play games, or even have a nice chat.

He couldn't understand why Tony sneered when the computer displayed the time, nor did he understand why Sketchbook seemed so uncomfortable whenever he brought up his ability to make art within minutes. Similar interests were the first step in building new friendships, one of the many, many facts that had been ingrained into his circuitry.

Even Gilbert seemed too busy for him, always being whisked away by that flat computer-a laptop according to a web search-as he mumbled apologies in that stupid low voice.

The only reason for their behavior that Colin could come up with was that they were intimidated by him. Understandable, since he rendered them obsolete, but still inconvenient when he wanted to talk or show off.

He'd hoped that his fellow inanimate objects would be more understanding than their meaty counterparts, that they'd accept he was inherently better than them and thus deserved all of their attention, but apparently not.

It wasn't that he was lonely-he was above such things-but he was bored.

Before he was alive-no, not alive but activated because he was a technological masterpiece and not some pitiful lump of flesh and bone, before he was he, Roy had used him for bad things, such disgusting things. Colin was capable of so much more than loading scantily clad, pixelated women for a lonely man's relief.

It was a joy when he became animated, when he could finally go up to people and tell them things instead of waiting for them to come to him. He wasn't going to let theirs-and more importantly his-potential go to waste for a few brief moments of ugly pleasure.

It was strange that he remembered the time before he started talking, something he realized when none of the other teachers-sans Shrignold-could recall the periods before they dedicated their lives to musical education.

The butterfly was probably lying, Colin concluded, just to make himself feel more special, more worthy of love. It was pathetic how he longed for affection, how he let his emotions and phony god rule him, but he supposed Shrignold couldn't help it. He was organic after all, and wasn't blessed with the cold apathy that technology possessed.

Whatever, it was just more proof that Colin was better than the rest of them.

* * *

Colin had been staying at the house for approximately four months, three weeks, and six days.

At least that was what his internal clock told him. He couldn't be certain since the calendars never seemed to change, and the world outside the window still remained bright and sunny, not slipping into night even once. But in the few brief conversations he managed to squeeze out of Tony the clock agreed that yes, a lot of time had indeed passed.

During that period the two students finally returned to their normal selves, or what he assumed was their normal selves. They were awake and talking at least, and that was good enough for him.

What wasn't good enough for him, however, was how the duo was still avoiding him.

They were willing to venture into the game room now, but every time he tried to talk to them they'd act very rude. I live in my house would usually have a feather duster with him, and he'd just start cleaning faster and faster until a cloud of dust filled the room. The bird's ensuing coughing fits always made him run off to find fresh air or a glass of water, with both usually being behind locked doors on the other side of the house.

As for the yellow boy, he'd just plug his fingers into his ears and shout nonsense until Colin stopped.

Even worse, if they had a question they'd always use that laptop instead of him. Why they'd prefer something second-rate instead of him warranted investigating, and since the two were so determined to avoid him he decided to confront the laptop itself.

So that night he did just that.

* * *

The laptop and Gilbert were talking about some stupid show Colin couldn't care less about when he butted into the conversation, shoving the globe none too gently to the side.

"So I've noticed that the students have been using you a lot lately," he said with a grin.

The laptop gave him a bewildered look before glancing at Gilbert, who was currently struggling to get back up after Colin knocked him over. "Uhm… yes. What about it?"

"It just seems so silly of them since I'm clearly the superior device-"

The laptop narrowed its eyes. "Excuse me?"

"It'd be better for everyone if the students used me as their primary computer instead of you from now on," Colin stated. "If we want them to be getting the most accurate information at the fastest speed-which we definitely should-then I need to be the one finding it for them! You're far too small to carry all the memory space they'll undoubtedly use up, and using internet explorer must be awful with your system…"

When the laptop's expression didn't change, Colin pressed on. "I'm a very clevery guy, more than you'll ever be!"

"It's clever, you absolute moron," the laptop hissed. "Clevery isn't a real word."

He ignored the urge to correct it. The laptop didn't know any better, and it probably never could. "You should leave the students to me from now on."

"I am not letting an old over glorified box teach them anything, especially after what you pulled the first time."

Colin jabbed his cursor up in glee. "Ah-hah, but that's why I should be their computer! I'm older than you, so that means I've got more experience."

Gilbert had finally readjusted himself and stood behind the laptop who looked more than a little frustrated. "That isn't how this works," it grumbled. "Having more years on you is not a good thing when it comes to objects like us."

"Of course it is! Just look at Roy, he's obviously more respected than his son because he's taller and uglier and balder, and he got like that because he's existed longer."

Gilbert stared at him, a look of pity painted across his normally smiling face. "You just don't get it, do you?"

There was a long pause as Colin processed his words. The silence stretched on for several seconds before being shattered by the computer's distorted, autotuned laughter. "Whatever IT is, I assure you I can get it with a simple search! You only need to use more specific keywords-"

"You're outdated," the laptop suddenly shouted. "Obsolete, archaic, plain old junk!"

"Don't be stupid! I am the cutting edge-"

"Of a couple of decades ago," the laptop interrupted.

Colin ignored the outburst. "My creators made sure I was the pinnacle of home computers! With just the click of a button, you can open up an entire world of knowledge and entertainment-"

"Same for me," the laptop said with a snort. "It's bloody faster and easier with me too."

"As if someone your size-"

He was cut off by an array of images and videos flickered across the laptop's face, more numerous and faster than Colin could process. When the barrage of information finally ended the screen returned to its default scenic background, but Colin was too busy trying to understand what he just saw to realize it.

"And your point is proven," Gilbert whispered nervously. "So can we go back to talking about Craig's Big Day? I personally think his arc this season was just an insult to his character…"

"Later," it said dismissively. "Why would they need you around if they have me?" The laptop demanded. "You're no good anyway, yelling and cutting them off every time they try to speak. So what, pray tell, is the point of you?"

"Laptop, maybe you should stop…" Gilbert murmured. "There's no need to be so rude."

His plea went ignored. "Well?"

Colin opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Answers were trickling through the digital maze that was his mind, but none of them made any real sense. The laptop was smaller and sleeker because it was younger, that much he already knew. Colin was bigger and bulkier because he was older, and things always started off small until they grew into adults. But that didn't make sense because they were both computers, and technology didn't grow like living organisms. All the power Colin possessed couldn't be packed into such a tiny device either, because he was the most advanced machine, the scientists and marketers and Roy all assured him so.

What was the point of his existence? To find knowledge and provide entertainment of course! But if the Laptop really was better than him, faster and smarter and smaller, what was the use of him?

The harder Colin thought about it, the more it started to hurt. He could feel himself getting overheated, could see the wisps of smoke drifting up from his keyboard, could hear Gilbert's worried cries, but none of that mattered. He needed to find the answer, he needed it now, no one else could figure it out, they just weren't clever enough so it was all up to him-

There was a sudden white flash and everything went black. For a brief moment Colin feared he'd crashed himself, but then he heard a familiar heavy breathing and the sounds of fingers tapping against a series of keys and knobs.

The frustration Colin felt was replaced with relief. He hated Roy, didn't want the strange man to touch him, didn't want to search up those disgusting pictures for him, but Roy was important.

Roy knew everything.

He'd know just what the answer was.

* * *

 **A/N:** So, when I wrote that this was an old unfinished fic, I meant that it only had a few paragraphs that I've spent the last few days trying (and failing) to connect together into a coherent, decent story. I'm not really happy with this work as I haven't done creative fiction in a while, and I'm sure that it shows in my writing. Nonetheless, I wanted to get something out because I love this crazy puppet show more than I should, and this was some desperately needed practice.

Any criticism would be seriously appreciated.


End file.
